Coffee
by TeaC0sy
Summary: Hwoarang x Julia plus Cold plus Coffee.


**Untitled as of yet, 'til I can think of something.

* * *

**"I'm – don't think I'm staring, I'm not. I'm just looking at your smile."

Julia quirked her eyebrows half-disbelievingly and gave a tiny _huh_.

Through the huge window to her left hordes of students could be seen hurrying from sale to winter sale, pulling their scarves tighter around their faces, dragging their friends along to _just one more shop, please_.

Hwoarang, taking note of the silence from Julia's end, took off his beanie and ran his hand through his hair self-consciously with a weak chuckle. "No, er, don't take that the wrong way, your smile's real nice."

Despite his words and a sharp aside or two she was thinking of, something – a fairly strong something - tugged inadvertently at her lips, and she found herself letting it. He provided her with a nervous imitation.

"This'll most likely sound a bit strange, but it reminds me someone's – well, Baek's old wife. She was a nice lady, you know. Great cook, and real kind… she was like a mum would be, I guess." Hwoarang took another large gulp of his coffee in the pause that followed.

Choosing to let his previous remark slide for the time being, Julia frowned slightly, interest piqued. "Old wife?"

"Oh – yeah," he said, setting the polystyrene cup down a little too quick in his haste to continue the conversation. Julia's eyes followed it, and she fought a smirk as a considerable amount of the liquid spilled out of its container and covered Hwoarang's hand. He looked down and sighed. "Crap," he muttered, and wiped his hand on the leg of his jeans with another embarrassed laugh. Julia rolled her eyes and resumed her flat observation of the street outside, an almost-bored expression on her face.

A month ago she was still in America. There, having realised her wishes of bringing deforestation to a halt were fruitless without the data she could have gained from the King of Iron Fist Tournament 4, she decided to take part in the next event. As soon as she could, she set off to Japan again. Positivity and hope for the lands soared high along with her on the plane. Three weeks ago the tournament had commenced. Julia kept collected and gave every battle her all. At first, even a brutal hammering from a complete stranger did nothing to bring down her optimism – never mind, she'd just spring back up with a flurry of her own swift attacks. Two weeks ago found Julia defeated in her sixth round. Two weeks ago found her optimism finally deflated; no '_it was an improvement from last year's_' could puff any air back into it. Julia had taken it upon herself to cease the destruction of the earth, and had failed for the second time. One week ago and she was told that her flight back to her homeland had been delayed and _would you like a refund?_ Three days ago she was approached by a familiar person outside her favourite ramen stall. A second glance informed her that it was fellow competitor Hwoarang, the cocky redhead who had gotten a lot further in the tournament than had she – admittedly, not looking as cocky as usual. Ten minutes later Hwoarang revealed 'the best place for coffee in Tokyo, I swear,' to a slightly bewildered Julia, who just nodded and smiled. Almost immediately Hwoarang bounded out, face complete with wide smile. A minute or two after that, and Julia had no idea what had just happened.

The beginnings of a slight snowfall became visible, and the crowds shopping on the other side of the window began to thin out. Julia sighed, both elbows on the table. She rested her chin on her right hand, her left gently swirling the remnants of her coffee.

Hwoarang cleared his throat. "So yeah, I only knew her for about two, two and a half years... I first met her a while after Baek started teaching me."

Julia turned her head back to Hwoarang, returning her attention – or at least, in part – to him. "When was that?" She watched him put his beanie back on his head.

"About… ten years ago? I was ten or something, I think."

Julia smiled slightly at the thought of the person in front of her at ten years of age. The image in her head was that of a short kid with the same soft-looking red hair (perhaps wearing a cap instead), and somewhat gentler facial features. He wore trendy, 'street' clothes for a child, feigned his voice to be deeper than it was while ordering younger kids around and heeding only his new Master Baek.

"Anyway," he continued, "one evening I drop into their house for dinner, as was a common occurrence for my thirteen year old self – her kimchi, _no place_ can ever hope to top it – and Baek's all on his ones. Took him longer than usual to answer the door as well, and all I remember thinking is how lucky he is that I didn't scare or annoy the crap outta him and just use the key to the front door I found in the living room last time I was there." He paused to take another sip of coffee.

Having warmed considerably quickly to the story – _just_ the story, she reminded herself – Julia let a small laugh escape her lips. "And that key just happened to follow you out?"

Hwoarang put down the cup again, slower this time. "Hey, what. I musta forgot to put it back or somethin', alright?" He grinned at her.

Julia laughed again, louder than before, and shook her head lightly. "Su-ure."

Hwoarang tutted jokingly before resuming. "In any case Baek opened the door eventually. I could tell straight away he'd been drinking, he looked pretty similar to how he did when he'd lost that ₩500,000 bet with his friend. But worse, a lot worse somehow.

"So I barge right in like the awesome student I was and still am, and head straight for the dining room. Empty. As was the fridge." At this, Julia laughed again before she could stop herself, muttering something about boys and their stomachs. Hwoarang smiled sheepishly. "So I call out '_umma_' – what I called his wife, means 'mum' literally – and as soon as the word fell out of my mouth he – well, screamed at me to shut up. _She isn't here. Stop wasting your breath_. So where is she then, I asked."

A gaggle of teenagers entered the café, causing a sharp gust of wind to fly in through the momentarily opened door. Hwoarang and Julia both shivered slightly and pulled their outer clothes a little tighter around themselves. "Go on," Julia prompted, finding herself wanting to listen to Hwoarang – Hwoarang's _story_, she amended.

He smiled warmly at her. The wind might as well not have been attacking them.

"_She's gone_... and I waited for him to elaborate. _Gone home. They've taken her home_, he says. So I laughed, twat that I am. 'But she lives here, master.' God, were his eyes livid. _Gone. Home. _And with that he stalks out of the room, out of the front door and to only heaven-knows-where. Next time I saw him was about a week later. Do you want another coffee, by the way, think the waitress's coming over," he added conversationally.

Julia nodded – almost impatiently, Hwoarang noted, amused. "Sure, sure." Hwoarang tried not to smile at the change in Julia in the last few minutes. He called over the waitress standing nearest to them.

"Two more coffees please," he ordered in accented Japanese. The waitress smiled, bowed and walked off.

"So where was she?" Julia asked after a moment, after the sound of the waitress' heels died down. "Did Baek ever tell you?"

Hwoarang shrugged. "Nah. Like I say, I was thirteen, so I supposed it'd be best not to bother him about it again. I assumed 'home' meant her parents', or something. So I figured they had a 'lover's tiff', you know."

"But she never came back."

"No," Hwoarang shook his head to emphasize, sending the hair sticking out of his hat flying. Julia emitted a _hm_. "And what's weird is Baek would never say he was divorced, or even separated, no matter who he was talking to. 'Married, but there are complications.' I mean come on Julia; seven odd years down the line, still 'complications'?"

"Yeah… does seem a bit weird. And he's never mentioned her again, even? Or just suspiciously gone off somewhere?"

"Nup."

A moment or two later and their drinks had arrived. They both thanked the bowing waitress, who walked off with a chipper smile. Hwoarang grinned after her. "She looks about twelve, bless her." Julia laughed lightly.

They both sat for a couple of minutes holding their cups; the heat from them slowly warming up their fingers.

"Now I think on it," Hwoarang said thoughtfully, "it was always quite hard to understand her. She was Korean, and spoke it, but it was a totally different dialect, her natural one."

"So maybe she went back to her old city then, where she grew up," Julia put in. "That would constitute as 'home'."

Hwoarang absent-mindedly raised his cup, but lowered it before he burned his tongue. "Yeah, s'what I eventually thought. Haven't 'til this day recognised her accent again, though. Must be some far away city…" They sat in silence for a minute or so. Julia's head turned back to the outside world, watching the now few shoppers bustling about in the cold. "I've gone so off track, wow." Hwoarang laughed. "Yeah. Your smile just really reminds me of hers. And you zoned off about half an hour ago, didn't you," he laughed again.

Julia muffled her own laugh with the back of her hand. "No, no. Of course not," she assured him. "Still, I wonder what happened to Baek and his wife…"

Hwoarang nodded. "Yeah. Her name's Iseul. Means 'dew', by the way, haha."

"Ah… pretty."

"Mm." He glanced at her. "But your mind definitely wasn't wondering elsewhere?" He asked in a mock serious tone.

"Definitely."

His eyebrows furrowed. "Promise?"

"Promise!" They both laughed awkwardly.

Once their drinks cooled and were being sipped a short while later, Hwoarang broke the silence.

"_Anyway_, getting back to the point. You really do have the nicest smile."

Julia's slight giggle escaped before she could help it. "Oh – no I, well thanks –"

Hwoarang's laugh drowned out hers. "Don't worry, you don't have to respond. Just er, keep on smiling, yeah?" He gave her a thumbs-up and grinned behind his cup. Julia shook her head in amusement.

"Promise."

* * *

**_... Coffee's a good drink,_ a'ight?**


End file.
